


Bobby's Birthday Bash

by Xayna



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, I Don't Even Know, M/M, i guess, wtf even is this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-22
Updated: 2015-03-22
Packaged: 2018-03-19 04:19:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3596097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xayna/pseuds/Xayna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I had a rough time a while back and had some anons send me fic requests and this was born out of this request: "If it's alright with you, would you mind writing a Crobby ficlet where everyone came to Bobby's for a family dinner. Maybe with Dean having to choose between getting delicious pie that Crowley made or attempting to chase him away?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bobby's Birthday Bash

"Hello, darling," Crowley said in his silky, seductive voice. "I brought you pie."

Crowley bent in to kiss Bobby, but the gruff hunter moved away. “Don’t you think I damn well know why you brought that pie? You don’t want Dean to try killin’ you again.” Bobby moved toward the stove, stirring something in a large pot and checking the oven. “I learned how to cook for those idjits and they can’t even have a civil dinner.”

Crowley slid the pie on the counter and moved in behind Bobby. “Darling, relax. They’ll get used to it in time.” He wrapped his arms around his prickly paramour. “You see, I brought pie.” Crowley nuzzled into Bobby’s neck and just as Bobby was starting to relax, they heard the snick of a gun being cocked behind them.

"Hello, boys," Crowley murmured into Bobby’s hair before turning around with his hands raised. "I’m not here for trouble, you two. I’m here to celebrate our mutual friend,” he emphasized, pointedly shifting his eyes in Bobby’s direction. “Though he may not admit the fact, today is his birthday and I don’t know about you, but I believe this calls for a cease fire.”

Dean looked at Bobby, then back at Crowley. He straightened up from his ready-to-fire stance and uncocked the gun. “Fine. Just for today.”

Bobby rolled his eyes. “Stop being idjits and eat some damn food.”

"Yes, sir," Sam piped up softly from behind Dean. "And happy birthday."

"Shut up," Bobby grumbled.

Dean shouldered his way in and grabbed a chipped plate out of the cupboard while Bobby pulled a roast out of the oven. Dean filled his plate with meat and mashed potatoes from a pot on the stove, forgoing the cooked carrots and green beans.

"Vegetables are good for your health," Crowley intoned upon seeing Dean’s food choice.

"Yeah, well, it’s not like you to be concerned for my health," he grumbled, going into the living room and sitting in one of the worn out arm chairs. Bobby, Sam, and Crowley soon followed behind, taking their places on the raggedy furniture.

Bobby grabbed a remote from the table beside the couch. “This damn thing had better work,” he groused, pressing a button repeatedly. “Son of a bitch!”

"Calm down, darling," Crowley said from beside him. "I’ve got this." The demon twitched his wrist and a football game began playing on the TV.

Everyone was quiet for a while after that. Once everyone had gone back for seconds and, in Dean’s case, thirds, they all sat back in the living room and watched the game in companionable silence.

"How’s the research goin’, Bobby?" Sam inquired. "Have you got past that spot in the text?"

Bobby coughed abruptly and Crowley hid a chuckle behind his hand. Dean looked between the two and immediately jumped on the offensive.

"What, you’ve been consorting with the enemy for help to take down the enemy?" Dean demanded. "His life mission is to kill us!"

"Dean! Shuddup and sit down or you are getting no goddamn pie!" Bobby roared.

Dean shut up. “There’s pie?” he asked in a small voice.

"I may have retrieved a special recipe," Crowley murmured with a sly grin.

An expression of pure confusion played on Dean’s face. Sam stifled a chuckle and leaned forward so his forearms were resting on his knees.

"Think of it this way, Dean. It’s Bobby’s birthday. You don’t want to piss Bobby off on his birthday, right? And Crowley brought pie. Not pissing Bobby off means that you get pie."

Dean’s confusion morphed into regretful resignation. “Fine, I’ll eat the pie.” He pointed a finger at Crowley. “But you best believe I’ll be back to hunting your ass tomorrow.”

"Fine," Crowley replied with a small grin on his face. "Let’s eat some pie."

Dean jumped up and stalked into the kitchen with Sam following at a more sedate pace.

"See, darling? I’ve got this." Crowley leaned in and kissed Bobby softly.

"Fine. Idjit."

Finis.


End file.
